Brothers
by Jen Six
Summary: The Potter boys always had their own problems to deal with.


Great. It was already his first day at school, and he was wiping pond scum off the back of his head from one of his housemates. He was the son of the most famous wizard alive, the son of Harry Potter, Defeater of the Dark Lord, Protector of the Wizarding World, the most decorated Auror in a hundred years, and he was wiping _pond scum_, of all things, off the back of his head.

The eleven year old Potter watched the group of fifth year Slytherins walk away, joking about how the new look befitted someone of his _stature, _and he couldn't help but wonder how his brother had always managed to come off looking like everything was normal, like it was _natural_… He had never wished that his brother was next to him right now, to help him figure out what he should do about the bullies, before they became worse…

* * *

He blinked, and now he was fourteen, sitting behind Lillian Cresswell in Divination, thinking about how pretty she looked, and wondering what it would take in order to get her attention away from his brother, towards her. He had tried several times to talk to her, but she was always cold towards him, calling him a toe rag, a purist, and a bully. He didn't know what to think, about it, much.

After class that day, he managed to get Lillian to talk to him, although it wasn't alone like he'd have liked. She was surrounded by her friends, a couple of witches that looked like they were a little bit younger than her, and he couldn't recall ever having seen them in any of their classes. "Cresswell!" He called, far too cocky for his own liking, "D'you wanna go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

She stared him down, her icy blue eyes filled with contempt. "Not even if you were the last man on earth, Potter. When will you get it that no one likes you?"

He had positively fled from her, and hidden away in the kitchens, before one of the house elves had sent for Professor Longbottom, and that had been the end of his private sulking.

He had tried talking to his brother, the smarter, more popular brother, the one who didn't muck up everything he touched, and all he had said was that he needed to work on being more likeable. He had _tried, _too. Here he was, supposed to be the Golden Boy of Gryffindor, and everyone in the school hated him for one reason for another. Lillian, the same Lillian he had been crushing on since his very first day on the Hogwarts Express, wanted nothing to do with him. His associates, as they weren't really his friends, treated him as a subordinate, and only granted him the honor of being friends with _him._

This wasn't like how he thought school was supposed to play out. He was the son of the Boy-Who-Lived, and it wasn't his fault that he couldn't be like his brother, his smart, poised, eloquent brother…

The time passed quickly at Hogwarts, with him throwing himself into his schoolwork, into Quidditch, the Chess Club, and even Gobstones for a while, in a desperate attempt to fit in when he just couldn't manage. Ultimately, his sister, Lily, pointed out that he was a dog in wolf's clothing, that everyone saw him as a loner because of his isolation, and therefore isolated him further, even though he wanted nothing more than to join in with them. She told him it was simply a matter of time before either he or they grew into each other.

Of course, that was before the war broke out, and their family was ripped apart.

* * *

No one in the Wizarding world would've thought that the Potter family would have ended up on different sides during the Third Wizarding War, but that was what happened. Of course, he had taken the first opportunity and became an Auror, like he was supposed to, because that was what good, devoted sons did, even when they weren't their father's favorites. His brother, on the other hand, took the _other _route and disappeared.

It wasn't until one night, five years later, when the new string of Death Eaters was attacking Hogwarts, hoods up, that James Sirius Potter finally hit bottom.

He had been dueling a masked wizard, and hit him with a Reductor curse square in his chest, and blood flew everywhere—but the force of the blast flung the hood off, and the gore splattered the wizard's face. Instantly, James knew the wound was mortal, but looking at the blood covered face, his heart dropped.

"Albus… Why, Albus?" he choked out.

Albus Severus Potter smiled weakly. "I… I fit in, with _them,"_ he said, looking at James. "I never had your charm. I always wanted to be _you_… The lone Lion of Gryffindor… Above everyone else, always willing to do the right thing…"

"Albus!" James looked down at his dying brother, and held his hand, trying to stem back the tears. "Look, Al, I was only like that because they all hated me and adored you! There was never any room in the house for me, and you know it! Bloody hell, even Lillian liked you better than me."

As the light faded from Albus's eyes, James couldn't help but notice that his brother had never looked so much like him before.


End file.
